Bradley Eidson

Beside Still Waters

Muddy and bloody he stood beside still waters. In his right hand there was a knife. The blade was called Tongue and it shimmered in the starless night. It spoke words both beautiful and terrible. The hilt was made of bone. Warm bone. Fresh bone. Harvested bone. The lamb that was slain lay splayed out on the wet earth and iron lingered in the stale air.